GERRY KENNEDY

Feeling a bit outside of things is the norm for me here. I’m not quite family, but not quite not family either, if that makes sense. I find myself gravitating to those like me … outside what I call the Crowe influence. Cory White’s a curiosity, a second generation misfit. Pullo is interesting, but I gotta admit, Antony gives me the willies. His presence feels bigger than Maximus, but Biebe tells me it’s just a slow wearing off of the old energy that makes it seem that way. Marc Antony has acclimated pretty well. I keep wondering if I ever will. And … I wonder if acclimating really means doing it away, apart from the Inn and the rest of them. I got no anchor here, no real connection or any sort of real reason to stick around.

‘Course, that’s when Biebe simply announces, “So get a fuckin’ reason, Kennedy. Work helps.”

I was glad he didn’t suggest a woman. I’m still hurting over Holly, sure that if I do leave it won’t be to live in New York, and basically not interested in women of any size, shape or persuasion. Maybe that comes from getting dead? Yeah, all around figuring things out is tough … I’m still fighting the desire to write to Holly … even caught myself jotting on a sweaty window in the greenhouse dining room; P.S. I love you.

“Ever though about a limo service?” came a voice, I turned. Skinner was lounging comfortably and reading the evening paper at his table. He’d just ordered dinner. We … the family … knew it was always best to get to the dining room early, around five if we wanted one of Chef Chris’ excellent meals. Once the skiers crowded in, the idea of relaxing went right through the shiny glass roof. That dining room would hop from six until ten when the kitchen closed.

I groaned and smeared my words on the glass. “Did that once.”

“I know. It’s a service this town doesn’t have. There are a lot of wealthy people coming to Stowe, several of them staying here at the Inn. You could make a killing.” He looked at me over his glasses.

“Or … I could kill myself and my passengers wrapping a fifty-thousand dollar limo around a tree in this weather and on these mountain roads. Not sure it’s such a good idea.”

Skinner nodded, looked back at his newspaper. “Another thing people in this tourist town do … is drink.”

“Yeah. So?”

He passed the paper to me, pointing to the For Sale column with a grin. Old Maulder’s was closing and taking bids. Huh … something to consider. I had the money thanks to one Dino O’Leary. All I needed now was the nerve to stick around and admit my connection with the rest of them. Maybe with a big old bar around me … I could do it.

AGENT COOPER

I woke this morning feeling a weight I have never felt before. A burden I’d been avoiding for a very long time. A mourning for the life I once had and had never once permitted until I came to this Inn to investigate a long dead federal agent.

I never faced the losses; my family, who I never speak of. When I came to be in this strange world, it was long ago, 1991. My mother was elderly then as was my father and surely they have both passed on since then. There is something disturbing about not knowing how or when they died, not seeing a casket or witnessing a burial. At that time, I was not married. I had no time for such frivolities. I was a very busy investigator.

It was rough for a while, but rationalizing that whatever had placed me in a different world was not going to willingly return me, I plowed ahead. Started over. I admit using a few underhanded skills to manipulate things and put myself back to work. And … I never looked back. Until now.

I was seeing it all in that Inn. Seeing and watching a strange family of men who obviously came from the same place, albeit different eras and backgrounds. Thorne was the same as Wade, who was similar to Wigand and O’Brien and even the soft one, Mitchell. Biebe seemed to have a good grasp on it, creating a safe place for them to all be together, helping what he calls ‘brothers’ be comfortable and stable. I know I am not part of all this, although there are a few who are also apart, but willingly wrapped tight into the Inn’s cocoon. Suddenly, where I belong seemed desperately important. I lifted my cell and dialed Dianne.

Of course she was not my Dianne. My Dianne disappeared with everything else all those years ago. I carefully hired a woman named Dianne who fit the bill perfectly and asked little of my idiosyncrasies. “I am taking a few days off,” I said calmly.

“That’s not like you, Dale.” I admit, this Dianne liked to use my given name and it always irritated me.

“Well, all the same, I need a few days. Things are stagnant here with the investigation. Nothing I can learn in a few days will make a big difference anyway. I’ll be in touch.”

“Will you ski?”

“Of course not,” I snorted.

“Are you okay?”

I am nearly fifty years old and for some reason those words softened me to the point of nearly sobbing. “Of course, I’m fine. I’ll be in touch.” I hung up, not willing to let her ask any further questions I could not and would not answer.

I packed a bag and went down to the lobby desk, explaining to Marla that I would be gone a few days, but will need the room when I return. She was pleasant enough and agreed to hold it for me.

“Where are you going?” It was Riley, joining us from the parlor. I had hoped to avoid her.

“Just need a few days to clear my head, Mrs. Biebe. Is it too much of an inconvenience to hold my room?”

“No inconvenience at all. You’re always welcome here. And,” she stepped closer, far deeper into my personal space for my liking but I permitted it. “You don’t need to leave, Agent Cooper. All your answers are here,” she whispered. “John can help you. Just talk to him.”

“I need time, not conversation.” It came out far more blunt than I intended and I gave as pleasant a grin as I could muster. She knew. Knew about the men in her strange family … and knew about me too. She deserved an explanation. I sighed, shifted on my feet. “I will talk to him when I return. I just need … a little time. I have not faced this … yet.”

She nodded sadly. “You’ll be back for Thanksgiving, right?”

Four days. Perhaps that would be enough time. “Yes, I will. I would not miss such a meal at the Inn for anything.”

“Not the Inn … I’m inviting you to the apartment … for dinner with the family.”

I drew in a deep breath. “That’s very hospitable of you, but not necessary. I’m not … family.”

A tear glittered in her eye and her small hand settled on my arm. “But you are. Please be here for Thanksgiving.”

“I will.” I left the Inn, stepping fast and surely looking like I needed escape.

KIM

The holidays are just around the corner and I can’t bring myself to feel much anticipation this year. I try to deal with it by putting in a lot of overtime. The Inn’s getting busier and our new advertising campaign has been a smashing success; Come Spend the Holidays with Us. We’re booked solid over the long Thanksgiving weekend and forget about getting a room or holding an event with us in December; we’ve been booked solid since mid-October. But even though I’m spending more time at work, I’ve actually seen less of Emily. She’s busy with the housekeeping staff and heading a new customer relations project, so we really spend very little time in the office together.

She seems to be pretty happy with her new boyfriend, Adam. He drives her to work every morning so it’s pretty obvious he spends the night with her on a regular basis. Granted, she doesn’t rub any of this in my face. When we’re in the office together the mood is always cool and professional, and I’ve noticed that Adam never calls her at the office. I’m assuming they must text each other instead. She’s always smiling when she comes in every morning, and she’s still smiling at the end of the day. Did I ever have that effect on her? Did I spend my time thinking of ways to let her know how much I loved her? I like to think I did, once upon a time.

I’m not sleeping well; maybe three or four hours a night, tops. Funny thing is, Jessie’s become a bit of a night owl as well. She says it has something to do with hormones and pregnancy and her body preparing itself for the soon to arrive two AM feedings. I’ve thought of getting my own place after New Year’s, even though both Lachlan and Jessie have assured me that it’s all right for me to stay. It’s a little hard sometimes, seeing the two of them so happy; don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge them anything, but it only makes me realize how horribly I fucked everything up. Emily and I could have been looking forward to making our own lives together. But I made sure that it would never happen.

So once again I found myself sitting in the family room at two AM, drinking a cup of hot cocoa and staring blindly at the dying embers in the fireplace. The room was cold in spite of the furnace blasting and I wrapped my robe tighter, wishing that I’d remembered to put on a pair of socks or slippers. I thought about turning on the telly but the channel clicker was on the other side of the room and I didn’t feel like moving to go get it. I leaned my head against the back of the sofa and let out a weary sigh.

“Boy, that sounds serious.”

I tilted my head back to see Jessie standing behind me. She was wearing one of Lachlan’s oversized sweatshirts and a pair of black leggings tucked into a pair of thick white socks.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not very good company.”

She sat down beside me and curled her feet up beneath her. I wondered how she could still do something like that when she was so heavily pregnant, but she seemed to be rather comfortable. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

I shrugged. “Just the same old bullshit. I guess I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

We’ve had a few late night conversations just like this and shared a few confidences. I’ve found it pretty easy to open up with Jessie about a lot of things even though she’s never pushed or prodded for more than what I was willing to tell.

“It’s hard to face her every day, isn’t it?”

Talk about hitting the nail on the head. “Bloody hell, is it that obvious?”

She took my hand in hers and smiled. “To me, it is. You try to hide it but I can clearly see your heart on your sleeve.”

“I’d give anything to do it all over again, Jess.”

“Have you tried to talk to her about it?”

I shook my head. “There doesn’t seem to be any point. She’s already found someone else.”

Jess looked surprised. “So quickly?”

“Yeah. Guess I was an easy act to replace.”

“Kim, does she have any idea how sorry you are? Have you ever really apologized?”

“Tell me something, Jess. If Lachlan had done something like that to you, would you forgive him?”

She thought about my question for a moment, her brows furrowing and her expression growing serious. “I don’t know what I’d do. I’d be terribly hurt, and I’d probably kick him out, for starters.”

“So far you and Emily are two for two.”

She shook her head. “But I think I’d also try to understand what caused it to happen. Maybe there was a lot of stress from work or perhaps we’d been fighting. Maybe he needed me and I was unavailable or too preoccupied with other things. I’m not saying that it would be easy to forgive him, but I think there’s a difference between a man who strays once and a man who strays on a regular basis. Which kind of man are you?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “I think that should be obvious.”

Jessie wasn’t buying it. “You messed up big time, Kim. But I can see how badly you regret it. It’s obvious how much you love Emily and she has every right not to trust you. But what have you done to try and set things right?”

“What can I do? I gave her a raise, let her take time off over the holidays so she can be with her new boyfriend, and I don’t ask her any questions about how happy she is.”

“I have a feeling she’s not as happy as you might imagine. You two were seriously in love and it showed.”

“I’ve done everything I can to show her that I’m sorry, Jess.”

“Have you really?”

I began to feel defensive. “Of course I have. I’ve sent flowers, letters, left messages on her voice mail, sent e-mails … you name it.”

“But have you tried telling her? Has she heard you tell her how much you miss her and how nothing really makes any sense without her?”

“She wouldn’t listen. She’d probably just laugh at me.”

“Perhaps. It would most likely be a defensive reaction. But I bet she’d appreciate hearing your explanation. The real explanation. You and I both know that what you did had more to do with your own insecurities than with anything she may or may not have done.”

“Yeah, I’m such a winner.”

“Yeah, you were a total shit. But maybe she’d appreciate hearing that from you.”

My head was beginning to hurt and while I knew Jessie had a point; it was all easier said than done. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. “Let me think about it a bit. I hear what you’re saying, but I think I need to try and get some sleep first.” Funny, but I really was feeling sleepy.

She gave my hand a squeeze and stood up from the couch. “Yeah, I’m getting cold and think I’m feeling tired enough to try and go back to sleep myself.” She leaned down and kissed my check. “Hang in there, Kim. You know we all still love you.”

I only wish that Emily still did.

JACK

My usual daily routine was to be alone, followed by finding ways to appear focused on my family then again, be alone. So much weighted my heart; I simply could not face it while dealing with other people. The Inn was crowded but there were quiet times, times when most were off skiing. Times when I could suffer in peace.

Surprisingly, Natalie joined me on my afternoon walk. She was bundled up against the cold, her gloved hand resting in the crook of my arm. It was snowing, and the large, fluffy snowflakes swirled around us. The ice crunched underfoot as we silently stepped along the path leading to the gazebo.

She turned to me after we mounted the steps, the roof providing shelter from the snow. “Jack, I’ve gotta tell you about something that happened the other day.” Her face was serious, small frown lines between her brows. “It’s important,” she turned away, “and I’m not sure how to begin.”

I too turned away, staring at the snow which was now coming down in white sheets. “Just begin, my love … at the beginning.”

“Okay … SID came to see me.”

“What!” I turned. “If that miscreant has harmed you in any way …” I stepped toward her.

She put hands on my arms. “No, Jack. He didn’t hurt me. In fact, he wanted to help.”

“Help?” I was puzzled. When had SID ever wanted to help?

“Yeah, Jack. Help. He offered to make another Catherine for us.” She described his offer, another Catherine … another baby to take the place of the one taken from us. For a moment, my heart skipped a beat.

Natalie looked down. “I turned him down, Jack. It wouldn’t be Catherine.” Her voice was quiet.

I nodded. She was right, of course. There could be no substitute for our precious daughter. I turned back to the snow. My wife came up behind me, encircling me in her arms. What a pair we were … the two of us standing, silently staring at nothing. Each lost in our pain. I wanted to find some way back to her, but could not. I began to move away, but she would not let me go.

“Jack … please hear me out.” She looked up at me, her eyes glistening. “I know you’re hurting. I’m hurting, too. But don’t turn away. Please. I need you. Chelsea needs you. We can’t make it through this without you.”

“Natalie, I … I have failed you. I failed Catherine,” a sob cut off my voice. My dear wife held me, cried with me. She brushed snow off a nearby bench and we sat, huddled together, faces stained with tears.

“Jack, you didn’t fail us. You could never fail us. You were strong and brave. You did everything you could.” I began to protest, but she stopped me, her hand grazing the side of my face. “You did everything you could, Jack,” she repeated firmly. “Listen to me now, sweetheart. SID did us a favor … he made me see that it’s time we say goodbye to Catherine and move on. Never to forget her, but to live our lives. Jack, darling, we have to get on with living. Don’t you see?”

I looked at her, my beautiful wife, and nodded. It was time to put away the pain, to ‘move on’ as she said. I’ll never forget my lovely daughter and will always wonder what her life might have been. But … I need to look to my wife and my remaining daughter. It is what Catherine would have wanted.

EGAN

I don’t reckon I could have pulled any of this off without the help of the family. It’s been a bit overwhelming, but they’ve all been there at a moment’s notice, no questions asked. What’s surprised me most is that while we’ve all changed as we’ve gotten older, everyone is still pretty much the same; a little wiser perhaps, some of us a little heavier, and many sporting more than a bit of gray at the temples. But the bond we all share is stronger than blood.  I’m a loner by nature and don’t always have a lot to say unless it really needs saying, but I’m finding that seven year old boys have a way of changing pretty much everything.

Take dinner, for example. Gone are the days of my grabbing a burger on the fly. Right now my mission in life is to introduce Jacob to as many foods as possible. It hasn’t been easy, but Jessie’s been helping and giving me hints on how to get the boy to eat his vegetables. Who would have thought to add squash to a brownie recipe? So far I’ve found that Jacob likes green apples with a little bit of peanut butter, and he loves broccoli of all things, as long as it’s smothered in cheese sauce. He usually eats better when he’s allowed to help prepare the meal, so when we come home at the end of the day it’s his job to tear up the lettuce for salad and set the table.

I listened to him chatter on about his friendship with his cousin Valerie as I tossed a couple of potatoes into the oven. I think the common tragedies of their both losing their mothers has cemented their bond, even if they are five years apart in age. Tonight he told me how Valerie went up to his teacher on his first day at school and told her under no uncertain terms, You will be nice to him. He’s new and isn’t used to his new home yet.”  I grinned as I imagined her standing there, staring the poor woman down and just daring any of the other children to pick on him. Pullo has much to be proud of with his daughter; she’s not afraid to tell it like it is, especially the adults. I can appreciate a sheila with a good dose of moxie.

The bus drops them both off at Lachlan and Jessie’s house after school and Valerie makes sure that he finishes his homework before they watch cartoons or go out to play on the porch afterwards. Sometimes Jacob makes a fuss when I come to take him home; he’s gotten attached to his Aunt Jessie and he hates to say goodbye. He does seems to enjoy school; his placement scores showed his verbal and grammar skills at a twelfth grade level, but I insisted that he stay with others in his age group. I guess we’ll see how he handles everything as we go along and will make adjustments if necessary.

“Hey bub, you want hamburger or chicken meat pie for dinner?” I looked at the selection of pies that Andy and Monna had cooked up for us as a house warming gift and glanced over at the table where Jacob was busy arranging the silverware. He dropped one of the forks and as he bent down to pick it up he let rip with a loud fart.

I tried not to laugh and did my best to look stern. “What are you supposed to say?”

He grinned and started to giggle. “Excuse me.”

That’s one of unexpected pitfalls of changing his diet from McDonald’s to healthier food with lots of fruits and vegetables. The lad’s one of the gassiest kids I’ve ever encountered.

“I hope you don’t do that around Valerie or your Aunt Jessie. Women folk don’t appreciate that sort of thing very much.”

“Uncle Lachlan farts. I heard him. And so do you.”

Okay, he had me. All us men are disgusting pigs. “But does he do it around Jessie?”

He thought about it before answering. “No.”

“That’s because he’s a gentleman. And you won’t hear Uncle John farting in front of Aunt Riley either. It’s called good manners.”

“What if I only do it around boys?”

“Well, it might be funny once or twice, but after a while, you might end up with a nickname like Stink Bomb or Fartman.”

He considered that for a moment and then shook his head. “I wouldn’t like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d like being called either one of those nicknames, myself.” I pointed again towards the cooler.  “So, you’ve made up your mind yet? Hamburger or chicken?”

“Hamburger. Can I have it with ketchup?”

“Just a little. You nearly used the whole bottle last time.”

“Ketchup tastes good.”

The kid puts ketchup on just about everything. Now, if I could only get him to feel as excited about peas or carrots …

CORY

Okay, I did something. I had a hunch and I wanted to feel it out. Took a little jaunt over to New Hampshire, a prison there and a particular prisoner who knew Roger Fisher way back in the days when our dearly departed undercover agent met his demise.

Back then, the Inn was a commune and several young people made their way there, some local, some from other parts of the country … and all looking for the same thing. Drugs. Agent Sawicki was there for his reasons and apparently he crossed paths with someone who either figured him out, or just didn’t like him. Roger Fisher was one of the kids who hung out at the commune after school, so was Sam Cuthbert, his best friend who followed the path of drug dealing all the way to prison.

Cuthbert was convicted of more than dealing; he was also convicted of being an accessory to a murder committed in Albany, New York approximately three years after Sawicki’s death. Sam Cuthbert will be in a cell for something like ten more years. He wasn’t going anywhere. I had a plan and damn if it didn’t pay off … big time.

Just six hours after I left, I was back at the Inn only to learn Cooper had taken a powder for a few days. Man, I was so stoked with what I learned, I felt like I had to tell someone. Daisy was already busy in the pub, setting up for the evening and smiling ear to ear. The ghosts must be leaving her alone … or she’s finally snapped. Can’t figure out which just yet. I’d do that when I got back. I needed to talk to the Sheriff.

Wade, too, was incognito, MIA, nowhere in sight. His secretary said he took Tracy to lunch three hours ago and I suspected he’d taken her to lunch in Burlington … at a motel room … newlyweds, go figure. It still baffled me that they thought it was such a big secret. Nobody gave a shit that they got married. In fact, we’d all kinda liked to have been part of it. Whatever.

I groaned and turned to leave, figuring I’d need to hold onto my information until someone got back to where they were supposed to be … then I spotted Officer De La Croix. She’d been working closely with Cooper; she could take the tidbits and get them into the right hands. Success!

We went into the quiet conference room and I just spilled the beans.

“How did you connect Cuthbert and Fisher?” she asked, her hands jotting feverishly on a yellow pad.

“School yearbook.” Yeah, she looked shocked. Sometimes common sense prevails. She finally shrugged, probably giving me the benefit of dumb luck. I continued. “Fisher and Cuthbert were arrested together back in ’71 for possession of marijuana, but Fisher’s father got him off the hook. Politicians run in the family.”

She nodded, already knowing that fact.

“See,” I shuffled in my chair and leaned over the table at her. “I knew Cuthbert would be on his guard about Fisher, so I played an angle, told him I was writing a book and wondered about the activities at the Mount Mansfield Commune. Maybe he thought he’d someday be famous, maybe he imagined the book might exonerate him, I dunno.  He just opened his mouth and started talking; said he and Fisher were always there and that he always suspected that a guy named Bob Sawicki was bringing in the big deals … but then he kinda clammed up, saying he was wrong. Someone else was bringing in the shipments. Then he said Sawicki disappeared but the drugs still kept coming in. I asked him who was really making the deals and bringing in the shipments and he just laughed. ‘You’ll never guess in a million years,’ this fucker said. Then … then!” I watched De La Croix blink and I talked even quieter. “Then I pulled my ace out of the hole. I told him I already knew it was Fisher. No one cared. It was no big deal.”

“What did he say?” she gasped.

“He fuckin’ snapped,” I grinned. “Knowing he was paying for his crimes and Fisher never would made the guy crazy. Took me a while to calm him down but he started talking like a parakeet. He said Fisher was the dealer Sawicki was trying to find, that they always knew the guy was a narc … and that it was Fisher’s idea to eliminate him. Couldn’t get him to say more but,” I grinned wide and tugged the small tape recorder from my breast pocket. “Got it all here. So, what do ya think?”

She fingered the recorder, shook her head. “I think you need to keep your nose out of this from now on. No more private investigations, no more sticking your pretty face where it doesn’t belong. It’s a good way to get yourself dead, Mr. White. Now, I’ll take care of this … you,” she said as she stood, gave one hell of a substantial glare down her nose at me, too. “You, Cory White … keep your nose clean and steer clear of all this.”

“What’s Fisher gonna do? Have me killed? There’s a headline … Mayoral Candidate murders local filmmaker.”

“Do you really think that’s funny?”

My grin dropped like a brick. Maybe she was right.

LACHLAN

For as much as Jessie is a product of her technology loving generation, underneath her modern girl sophistication there’s that hint of old fashioned sensibility that’s becoming more obvious as the birth of our baby draws near. I know she’s torn over the fears of leaving one way of life behind for the unfamiliar territory of being a full time mum and housewife, but she’s doing it so well. We’ve both agreed that as long as I was bringing in enough money that it was important for her to stay home with our children while they were little. No nannies or daycare, no entrusting the looking after of our babies to someone else. I know this wasn’t something she warmed to easily, but we both agreed that raising a family meant sacrifices on both our parts. I guess we’ll have to play it by ear and learn through trial and error what works and what doesn’t. Her mother arriving over Thanksgiving to stay on with us has taken away some of the pressure, it’s given me a sense of security in knowing that someone we both trust will be here to help her while I’m off at work.

I had a few concerns in the beginning. Jess was moody during her first months of pregnancy, frightened over the changes she was going to face. In my time, marriage and motherhood was something that most women looked forward to; girls would make a big deal over stocking their hope chests with linens and all the things they’d need to help run a home when their time came. There wasn’t any shame in the practice, but somewhere over the years women became convinced that they had to do everything; holding down a full time job outside the home while raising a family and looking pulled together and stunning throughout it all.

I almost don’t blame Jess for feeling dodgy in the beginning, but it seems to be getting a little easier, once she realized that my being the sole breadwinner didn’t lessen her worth in my eyes. She’s taken on her new role with a sense of grace and ease that’s surprised and relieved me. I’ve always been aware of her nurturing side; it’s one of the things that kept me interested after my initial reaction to her physical appearance. It was like a healthy bit of icing on a very tasty cake. It shows in the way she packs my lunch in the morning before I head out to work, to her concern over Kim’s moodiness and the way Valerie and Jacob snuggle up with her on the couch after they’ve finished with their homework.

I came home the other night and found the three of them doing just that. They were in the family room watching some kid’s science program on the telly and Valerie was curled up on one side with Jacob on the other. Jessie was between them, her arm snuggled around the Jacob’s shoulders and she was running her fingers through his hair, playing with his tangle of curls. And if the little bugger was a kitten I swear I would have been able to hear him purring. The expression on his face was one of pure bliss; eyes half closed, a contented little smile pulling on his lips and that old ratty pink sweatshirt clutched tightly in his grasp.

The three of them looked so peaceful and happy, enjoying themselves as if it were the most natural thing in the world and then it hit me; my home is filled with family and tenderness even before our child makes his or her appearance. Our house is paid for and the renovations are nearly finished and the nursery is decorated and the crib is assembled and waiting for its occupant. The business, Home Again has had a promising start with Kevin at the helm and Skinner’s backing, and already we’re starting to get promising inquiries from folks interested in contracting our service for other projects, most notably Ben Wade. Despite all the uncertainty of the past and concerns for the future, my life is blessed. I can only hope that everyone else can feel so lucky.

JESSIE

Being pregnant has been an adventure. It’s an incredible experience to watch my body change as our baby grows inside me, to feel so much excitement and joy over this little person Lachlan and I created. Everyone’s always asking if we’ve picked out names and if we’re having a boy or girl. We did have the choice of knowing the sex of our baby and we discussed it at length before my ultrasound appointment. While we both liked the idea of not knowing, technology won out and it was actually Lachlan who convinced me that it would be okay for us to know one way or the other. I just naturally figured that he’d want to hold on to tradition and save the very best surprise for last, but I was wrong.

“At least we’ll know whether to buy pink or blue booties.” He argued, giving me the grin that never fails to make my heart beat a little faster.

But as fate would have it, this baby wasn’t willing to cooperate. Despite the ultrasound technician’s best attempts, the baby refused to uncross its legs.

“With a little luck, that means it’s a girl.” Lachlan joked.

While I only want the baby to be born strong and healthy, I’ll admit that I’m holding onto a secret little hope that our first born will be a boy. Lachlan’s never expressed a preference; he’s a regular cock of the walk over his accomplishment of getting me pregnant. After the terror of the Portals and the crushing reality of John’s experiences on the other side, there’s the comfort of knowing that he’s helped create a new life and it’s given him a ray of hope for what lies ahead. Perhaps I’m horribly old fashioned in my own way of thinking, but a son would ensure that the Curry name and legacy of sorts would continue on after we’re both gone.

It’s funny, because I’ve never considered myself especially fond of children; they were fun to be around as long as they belonged to someone else. I always shook my head at my girlfriends who had married and started their families before me, vowing that I was too young to be tied down by the never ending chaos of diapers and potty training. Whenever we’d get together they’d always look so tired and frazzled. Fashion and world events took a far backseat to the reality of late night feedings and the battle to loose the stubborn baby weight and it frightened me. Never mind that the babies were adorable. It all seemed such an incredible commitment and I wasn’t certain that I’d ever be ready. Pretty funny how quickly my mind changed once it happened to me. Just blame it all on the Curry charm.

Well, that and the fact that we were both a bit careless about birth control that one afternoon when Lachlan came home early from the flight line. He was still wearing his jumpsuit and teasing me as I was trying to get ready for work; I’d just gotten out of the shower and he kept pulling at my towel and making cheeky remarks to get my attention despite my best attempt to ignore him as I tried to dry my hair. It didn’t take much cajoling, however. I’m a sucker for a man in uniform and have to admit it was kind of fun helping him peel his flight suit off just far enough for …ahem, access. Lachlan didn’t even take off his boots until afterwards. And I was an hour late to work, but it was worth it. Oh man, was it ever worth it.

I think I’m ready to be a mother. Whenever I look at Jacob I can see the striking similarities between him and his father and I can almost imagine how our own child will look; my dark hair, Lachlan’s smile and cleft chin and hopefully his green-blue eyes and sense of humor. Then I imagine the possibility of more little Curry children and I have to laugh; gone forever is the girl who once cringed at the thought of changing dirty diapers or wiping snotty noses. 

Again, I just blame it on the Curry charm.

COLIN

A few nights ago, when I went home to fix things with Carrie, it didn’t go like I thought it would. I walked into the living room to find her crying and I suddenly realized she was probably gonna throw my sorry arse right outta her life. Then another thought shot through my head and I remembered Natalie, what she did when she left me. Bloody hell! What if Carrie tried to hurt herself too? No, I wasn’t gonna let that happen, no matter how it all played out. I did something strange and now, I think maybe it was the smartest thing I ever did in my life.

I took her arm and pulled her into the bedroom. There I stripped naked and started pulling her clothes off. She just stared at me, like I was a stranger or something, but she didn’t fight. I got into the bed and dropped my arm over my eyes, listening to hear what she’d do or say next. It was silent. Under my arm I was hiding tears. I finally moved it and looked up at her.

“Don’t leave me, Carrie.”

“You’re the one who walked out on me,” she said quietly.

“Just … please. Don’t leave me. Come lie down. Talk to me. I won’t touch ya, won’t do nothing. I just need to talk.”

“Naked? Why naked?”

I didn’t answer. Something inside me had told me it was the best way. Like if we were that vulnerable, we might be more gentle with each other or something. She finally lay beside me, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets to her chin.

“I am sorry. I been so fucked up and so wrong. Don’t leave me.”

We talked nice and civil for a long time, until it was totally dark and I could hardly see her there. I could feel her heat, wondered if it was anger or disappointment. I deserved it all. Finally she rolled to her side and watched me. In the corner of my eye I could make out the sparkle of tears on her face and my chest ached so bad I thought my heart was gonna burst.

“I have rules,” she whispered and I sighed; a great, deep release of tension groaning right outta me.

“Good,” I said. “And I got plans.”

“You? Have plans?”

I blinked. Did everyone know how fuckin’ unfocused I’d been? There I was, naked as the day I was born beside the woman I loved … desperate to save all the good things I got … and even Carrie knew I wasn’t worthy of any of it.

“Yeah. I got plans. Quittin’ the circuit. No more racing. Leavin’ the business. I’ll find something else to do.”

“Well, that’s just stupid, Colin.”

I turned to watch her face, a shadow silhouetted against the darkness. “No it isn’t. It’s time I quit playin’ around. There are things I want, Carrie and I want them with you. The NASCAR circuit is no place to get those things.”

“Like what?” Her finger actually trailed my arm and I shivered at her touch.

“I want us to be alone together. We’re always movin’ around, always running here and there and tryin’ to get home for family emergencies or the hols. I want a more settled life.”

“No you don’t.”

I ignored her. “I want us to finish the work on this house. I want a nipper or maybe two. I wanna be here for you and the kids and I want a good life.”

Carrie sat up, cross legged like an Indian and she looked beautiful in the dim light. “We already have a good life, Col. The racing season is over and we have time to work on the house … time to be home for the holidays. I know you, baby. You’ll be bored to tears before the first race. The business, racing … it’s in your blood. You don’t need to quit and you don’t really want to quit.”

I opened my mouth to argue but she kept on talking, smooth and soft, almost hypnotizing me with her voice.

“All you’re doing is trying to run away from what you did. I knew you were doing it all, the women, the drinking … all of it. But it’s not the circuit that made you do it. It was you. I like that you have plans and following through is important, but you also need to follow through with Hando and the business. You’re the best driver for this car and we all know it. You can’t let your partner down.”

“I don’t wanna let you down,” I stated and sat up to face her.

“So … don’t.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“Not for a long, long time … but … I’ll need to put all that off for a while. At least nine months.”

My brain started doin’ the math. The new season started in four months, not nine. Nine? Nine! “What’re ya sayin’?”

“I am probably crazy for doing this, crazy for even thinking this … but that thing you said you wanted? Kids? Well, that’s already on the way. I’d be so much smarter leaving you and raising this baby alone but as it is, I have a husband who says he wants to change … to do things right. Let me tell you what’s right, Colin O’Brien.”

I nodded numbly, still sort of shaken by the news.

“Right is sleeping with me and no one else. Period. Right is coming home after every race, no matter where we are.”

“You can’t be thinkin’ about travelin’ with …”

“Oh hell yes I’m thinking about it. Do you think I’d stay behind?”

The guilt of everything I done ripped across my chest and I pressed a hand there. Her hand lay over mine.

“Col, it’s not because I don’t trust you … although I can’t honestly say I do right now. It’s just that I love watching you race, love seeing your face when you stand in the winners circle. And … I want to be near you. It’s all I ever wanted. I love you.”

So there it was all over again. I fell in shit and climbed out smellin’ like roses. Well, not exactly. This time I was gonna be held accountable and this time I had reasons to make the grade.

We got a ton of arguments ahead of us, me and Carrie. Don’t like the idea of moving all over the country, race after race with a delicate wife in tow. Could be dangerous for the nipper, dangerous for her … dangerous for me, thinking ‘bout her instead of the track speeding past me. But we got a few months to work all that out.

The major point was that we were talking, I was getting’ another chance and already I had no idea why I did the shit I did. I wouldn’t do it again. Carrie, letting me stay with her, givin’ me a baby … well that made it all too real, too important. Solid. No way I’d get another chance, so no way I was wastin’ this one.

After I touched her, after I made love to her real tender and deep, after I let myself cry for how happy I was, we slept. Every day since then we’ve been working on the house and talking. We still have the holidays to get through. A few brothers knew what I did. Fuck, like it wasn’t gonna be hard enough making it up to Carrie, they’d all be eyein’ me too. I could handle it.

Least I think I can handle it.

JOHN

My life is nuts. Really. It’s fuller than full and at the end of any given day, I’m exhausted … although I’d be hard pressed to tell you exactly what I did. I run this place but I don’t. I cover every little hole in the works, but it should all be easy as pie. I run and carry, shovel snow and negotiate with guests; I even carry trays of food when a waiter or waitress calls in sick. I do the daddy thing every chance I get, I take care of paying our personal bills and occasionally I watch a little television or grab a beer at the pub. What I don’t get to do a lot is the husband thing and every now and then it makes me kinda crazy.

I’m a healthy guy, I like sex as much as the next man … but I like my wife a whole lot more than a lot of men I know. I like almost everything about her. How she looks, how she smells, how she smiles at me across the lobby when we barely get a minute to talk to each other … I even like the way she gets all pissed at me when I fuck up, her feet stomping and brows all knotted. She hates when I grin, but I can’t help it. Riley is my wife, she’s my life and the best part of me. At times like this, right at the beginning of a promising season, facing the holidays and needing a little downtime I sure as hell won’t see until summer … I really need a little of her warmth to get me through.

The problem is, my wife also runs this place, fills in when there are holes and does all the crazy shit I do to keep it all flowing like a river. Sometimes I gotta drop a dam in the middle of that water to get her attention. Yeah … I had a plan.

All the new construction was almost finished and the rooms would be opened for guests right on time, the day before Thanksgiving. That gave me four days to put my plan in action. One of those rooms is the bridal suite, a super nice suite set privately at the end of the building, complete with an outdoor hot tub and fire pit. There is a high white fence around it all and I had a bug up my ass that nobody was using that suite before I did.

I scheduled one of the sleds and grabbed my wife as she carried linens to help the new housekeeping staff.

“We got a problem,” I grunted.

“Oh shit, what now?”

I took the load of folded towels, handed them off to the maid and pointed to the door. Riley tugged up her hoodie and stepped outside into the falling snow.

“Get in, baby.”

She looked at the sled then at me. For a minute I thought she’d get mad and walk away. There was a lot to get ready before the new addition opened. But instead she grinned, her eyes twinkled and she scurried into the seat and under the mountain of warm blankets. I sat beside her and took the reigns, already feeling the glow of success.

“Tell me we’re going to the bridal suite,” she snuggled close.

“Yeah, we’re goin’ to the bridal suite.”

“I love you! I love you! I love you! I so need this.”

Fuck, she was all over me and for a minute I thought I’d rather take her right there on the twinkle lit trail than wait until we got to our destination. It all worked out real good, I didn’t forget the key, got the fireplace lit and dragged down the blankets on the massive bed before finally stripping my excited wife to the bone and going for it.

Damn, sometimes I wonder where all my energy comes from. Hers too. We’d both put in a long day and should have been tired, but we rocked and rolled that bed for hours, laughing and playing, reaching for each other again and again. Just what I wanted.

We finally went out to the hot tub and lowered into the water. That’s always fun, snow drifting into our hair as heat melted every muscle in our bodies. Riles snuggled close and sighed. Now it was time to talk.

She babbled about Thanksgiving dinner and inviting Agent Cooper … as well as her concerns for the Fed and Kennedy and how we could help them adjust. She mentioned some of the interesting guests registered for the Thanksgiving weekend, including one Shane Falco, which made us both laugh … couldn’t be, right? She also said SID was around. That made me nervous. Riles talked about Nathan and little Chelsea, about Jack and Natalie and how pleased she was to see them walking together that afternoon. She mentioned Egan and Jacob and how Lachlan was dealing with pending fatherhood … and she talked about us. Me and her. About my campaign for mayor, about holding off on having another baby, about whether I really wanted another baby or not.

Odd, I never thought about it like that. I just figured babies would happen and if we were lucky we could plan them, if not, we’d just manage. We did intend to hold off until spring, but my mind was melting along with my aching bones in the hot bubbles. What the hell were we holding off for anyway? Convenience? She was asking me if I really wanted to do it at all … and I gotta admit, at first I didn’t. Sometimes it’s nice to catch your breath before things get crazy again, God sakes. But now?

After the loss of little Catherine Aubrey?

After the surprise of Egan’s son?

After Maximus and Sophia’s new daughter and Lach and Jessie’s due date right around the corner?

After Wade’s secret marriage?

It was starting to feel like shit was happening all around us that no one could control. Did I want another kid?

Fuck yeah.

Did I wanna wait?

No.

“Baby,” I said as I kissed her deep and soft. “Let’s forget all about planning. Let’s just go for it and see where things fall.”

“No more rubbers?” she looked up at me with those big dark eyes.

“I hate those fucking things. Au natural from now on. But …” I said and her eyes widened. “You will take things easy when it happens, right? You don’t promise me that … and you’ll never see au natural again.”